The Professional Turning
by Bloody Words
Summary: Because of Kira, countless died. Mello is determined to save as many of those lives as he can when he is given the chance. And he doesn't care about preserving the original timeline. Gaining help from the unlikely Nate River, and meeting Matt in a place he had no reason to be, Mello finds that everything is not as simple as proving that Light is Kira.
1. Barefoot: First Meetings

**I don't claim in anyway that my characterization is anywhere near perfect. I apologize now for any major flaws. **

**This will have a selection of 'Arcs'. Barefoot, Renaissance, Culittle, Evade, Throne, Break and Ashes. All will tell different stories, but they all come together as one.**

**Barefoot: Mello and Near's first past together.**

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_"I'm turning over a new leaf!"_

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Barefoot: First Meetings

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It was adding and subtracting. Simple, not like some of the times tables he had tried doing, to prove that he was better than his classmates. He was, after all top of his class. The other children were angered by this, and the teachers always said that they should work like he did, but they never did. They would rather play all day, and hang out with friends. Mihael liked to play too, but he knew there was a time for it, and a time for actual work.

Even though everyone else around him were using the lunch hour to play or spend time with friends, Mihael was sitting under a tree working on his math assignment from that day. The third grader had tossed his lunch to the side, as there was nothing he considered edible among its contents. The hunger he was feeling tried to mess with his mind, but to no true success.

"Eighteen plus seven equals twenty-four" Mihael said casually, not realizing his mistake. He was about to write it down on the sheet, when a rustling of leaves above him messed with his attention. It seemed to have been caused by something larger than a bird, so it must have been a cat stuck in a tree. Mello didn't care though. It was just a stupid cat. He tried to go back to his work.

"Actually, eighteen plus seven equals twenty-five." Mihael froze once again, and he looked up to find a cherubic face, partly obscured by terror-white hair, looking down from the branches. Mello had found the source of the rustling, but he honestly didn't care about that detail. This boy had the guts to correct him, and he didn't know whether or not to be impressed, or angry. He chose the second emotion.

"Get down here brat." He hissed, slamming his work to the ground. The white haired boy's face stayed as blank as ever, but he was really calculating his choices. He could tell from the look on the other boy's face, one reminiscent of the angry adults that would chase him out of places, that it would be safest to retreat up the tree once again.

But despite it being the logical thing, the boy decided to ignore the choice, and pushed himself out of the tree, even though there was a measurable distance to the ground. As he landed beside Mihael, who showed no sign of disbelievement, he displayed no visible pain. He was too used to feeling it, that it had stopped registering in his mind.

Mihael had him against the tree seconds later, and would have punched him then if he hadn't caught how dead the boy looked. It was his eyes that he saw first. Dark grey, intelligent, but unable to truly see the world. Not blind though. In seconds he had calculated many visible things about the boy. Too skinny, a beat up appearance, only an adult sized shirt and jacket on, hanging off him like a dress, and no shoes.

But this didn't matter to Mihael, as he rose his first to strike him. The boy didn't flinch at all, until Mihael had lowered his fist in confusion. Most people showed fear when they were about to be hurt, but the boy didn't until Mihael had stopped his strike. Strange…

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Mihael asked, dropping the boy to the ground, forcing him to sit against the tree. Without saying anything, the boy's gaze suddenly shifted towards the abandoned lunch. The boy put a hand to his stomach. Mihael's brow scrunched, and he frowned, before retrieving his fallen sandwich, but not because the boy was so thin. He just wanted to the boy to pay attention to him.

"Thank you." The boy said after Mihael handed him the food. "It's been a while since I've eaten, since I hate eating food from the trash." He spoke before opening the bag and taking a small piece out. Hesitantly, he ate it, hoping that his stomach wouldn't reject it. Once he was sure he wouldn't throw up, he looked up at Mihael, who had stayed surprisingly silent. "I'm not use to this type of kindness."

"Homeless?" Mihael inquired, now looking at the details he had ignored before. The boy looked like he could break at any moment, yet did not display it in his attitude. His feet were barely recognized as such - covered in scars, infected, and covered with freshly dried blood. It must have at one point been painful.

When Mihael looked close enough, he could see the signs of the boy once being well off - the coat, now tattered, looked like it had once been expensive. And on the boy's finger there was a gold diamond encrusted ring - and he almost felt like this boy, if he had at one point been rich, had gotten what he deserved. He hated the children who had more money than the rest. They were too spoiled.

"Yes, for about a year now." The boy said before taking another bite of the sandwich. Any rich boy sent into homelessness would have broken long before a year had passed. Either there the boy hadn't actually been rich, or he had much more self-control than all the others Mihael had met. The boy continued speaking after swallowing. "My father, Ansel River…" Mihael cut him off, his mellow attitude suddenly fading at the mention of that name.

"Ansel River?! That's the bastard lawyer who let my Uncle go free! My cousin killed herself over that." He didn't like to remember his uncle, and his beloved cousin, one not seen since a while after being ruled innocent and the other dead not long after that. But at the mention of the lawyer, the father of the boy he had shown pity to, the memories resurfaced. And he punched the boy, even though it held no effect on him.

"He wasn't sorry for that, I'm sure. He never cared for anything. I'm really surprised he didn't kick me out sooner." The boy said after shaking his head to clear away the small bits of pain he was feeling. Mihael saw the small bits of pity in his eyes, and saw that unlike his father, this boy actually had a shred of decency in him. He handed him a tissue, which he always kept with him for whenever he managed to find chocolate, for the blood that was starting to creep from the boy's nose. The boy was confused at first, until he felt the blood down his throat.

"Thank you once again." He pinched his nose with the tissue, and looked straight at Mihael. His eyes were more lively than before. "My name is Nate, if you were curious. I prefer to not use my last name if I can." He then looked at the forgotten pile of homework sitting on the grass. "Also, I'm right about eighteen plus seven being twenty-five. I assume it was just a simple mistake. Nothing to kick yourself over."

Mihael smiled despite himself. After all that Nate was still concerned about homework that wasn't his own. He held out a hand, and helped Nate stand up. With a sandwich in one hand and a bloody rag in the other, combined with his overall appearance, and signs of intelligence, Nate was the most interesting person he had met.

"I'm Mihael Keelh, and don't you forget it."

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Next

_Renaissance: Awakening_

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**It's relevant to the plot that Near and Mello were once (sort-of) friends.**


	2. Renaissance: Awakening

**Thank you everyone.**

**Disclaimer: I do not intend to insult any religious faith or lack of one in this story. It is only for plot reasons, and an attempt to not insult those with faith and lack of one by using belief system by which I live, that I will use certain made up things.**

**Renaissance - The reason why and how Mello is sent back to change things.**

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_Renaissance: Awakening_

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Since the beginning of humanity, people have always believed in their own gods. They used a god to explain something they could not yet understand, and did everything to please these imaginary beings. Killing others seemed to be one of the most common among many, though some limited themselves to animals, or even simple offerings of crops. They honestly believed that the gods of their faith were real. Most were not, and they most certainly weren't like the people imagined.

The afterlife is an even trickier thing. Most people believed in one, though as the years went by some started to doubt this. But not even the gods that actually existed knew what the true afterlife was like. Most of them ignored the humans, so what happened to them after death was none of their concern. Even the one who chose whether a person would go to a good or bad place didn't know what each of them were like.

Mello was one who both believed in God and in an afterlife. When he was young, he imagined Heaven as a place even more beautiful and wondrous than had ever been described by anyone. But as he got older, he started to realize that there was little chance he would make it to the place he called Heaven. His 'sins' were too much.

He long since believed that he would go to hell. People said it was all fire and brimstone, too hot to survive and you were tortured endlessly. But Mello knew that his small part of hell would freeze over the moment he arrived. He hated the cold with a burning passion. But he deserved it all.

But one thing Mello never considered was that there was no true hell, persay. After death, those humans who led intentional bad lives were just deleted and forgotten. Or just forgotten in the system like the rest of those who had lived in the past one-hundred years. There was someone who was in charge of dealing with human souls, but he had stopped working long ago, so no one who deserved it ever became conscious again. But Mello woke, though it wasn't in the place the good dead were meant to be.

Even though he had awoken, he didn't open his eyes, staying in the darkness. It was more like he couldn't open his eyes. Like his entire mind, they felt heavy. It seemed like eons before he realized that he was lying in a bed, and that he was unable to remember the night before. Yet more seemed to be missing. He just couldn't figure it out, with how slow his mind was running.

Despite his slowed mind, he was eventually able to construct a faint image of what he last remembered. He had kidnapped Sayu Yagami and soon after his Mafia had gotten the Death Note. That was all he remembered of recent events. As he mind started a slow trek to it's normal state, he tried to think of what could have happened.

Could they have took to a celebration despite his orders not to? They had talked about it, but he had dismissed the idea, due to the dangers. But that wouldn't explain it, as he knew he wasn't feeling the effects of alcohol. No, it was something else.

Then, like a weight lifted, he found that he was able to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was a silver ceiling, covered with many glow-in-the-dark stars and moons. He briefly wondered who even had such things anymore, before focusing on why one of the members of the Mafia had them. He knew he had to be at one of their houses as he knew he wasn't in his rundown apartment. Though he wasn't sure how he got there.

His mind suddenly registered the chocolate scent that was floating in the air, and he followed the smell to a small side table, where a small cup of hot chocolate had been placed. The always calming liquid beckoned him to drink it, but Mello immediately seized up. None of his men would simply bring him such a thing without having other motives. It could be poisoned for all he knew.

"It's completely safe to drink, Mello." The voice, so unlike any of his men, but still as familiar as air, brought his mind temporary out of much of his haze. At the open door, stood the one person he had never wanted to see again after leaving Wammy's House. Stressed white hair, dead but calculating grey eyes, and loose fitting clothing. Near, of all people.

Mello's first quick decision was to lash out, ask why Near was there, and then before Near could respond, Mello would find his gun. But this plan was brought to a screeching halt, when upon even sitting up so fast, a intense pain ran through his body and he was forced to collapse onto the bed once again. All Near did in response to this strange occurrence was blink once, and then approach the bed, his foot steps unheard.

"You shouldn't try to overwork yourself just yet. Your soul is still adjusting to your new form." He looked completely serious while saying this, and while Mello knew that Near could keep straight face in almost any situation, this was by far too strange even for Near. Even Near seemed to notice this. "I assume you have no idea as to what I'm talking about. I was the same way."

"What the hell?" Mello croaked out, finding that he could in fact speak. He mind was beginning to become muffled once again. Near fingers were interlaced with white locks of hair, and saying nothing, he grabbed for the cup of hot chocolate.

"It's not Hell. We're in Mu. Though it's not quite Nothingness like has been told to others." Mu...Mello actually remembered reading that in the Death Note, and it was the one rule that he had hoped was fake. But to be there would prove its existence, making all he believed in false. The Death Note and the Shinigami could be correct. Mello hated the thought. So that made Near wrong.

"What lies, Near. This 'Mu' you speak of is for the dead. And it doesn't even exist." Mello spat in distaste, glaring up at the white haired young man. But still he took the mug when he was offered it. He didn't have any plans to drink it, but he loved the clarity it brought on. He pushed himself up, slowly, and leaned against the wall. "Now what are you really doing here?"

"On January 26th, 2013, you were a victim to a heart attack induced by the Kira-spokeswoman you had kidnapped. On May 20th 2016, my down fall was caused by one of the many sudden onset of Death Note users. We are both dead Mello. The world beyond these walls is the 'paradise' you believed you were unable to enter."

Unfazed by this revelation, Mello scoffed. "If I died, then why can't I remember?" But his words became obsolete when a small headache hit him, and an echo of a memory formed in his mind. He could have remembered the way the heart attack had felt, or the plan to kidnap Takada, but it was his own words that were clear in his mind. '_Matt, I'm sorry I got you killed.' _The headache intensified and the words cleared from his mind, and the haze began to return.

"It can take a while before all your memories set in. It's best to just sleep through it." Near stated, knowing from experience. Mello, unable to think of a comeback, a way to try to prove this was some ill attempted joke that Near had decided to perform, held his head with his free hand. His tired mind told him that he needed to just accept this situation temporarily, if not realize it was reality. But he didn't want to listen to it.

"You'll start feeling like yourself once you get some more rest." Near said, taking note of Mello's lack of response. It was worrying for him, as he didn't like seeing Mello so weak. But he had been the same. "I suggest you drink that first, before going back to sleep." Mello stared at the cup of hot chocolate in his hand once again. It was so tempting, and he wanted to glare at Near for believing that Mello would accept anything from him.

But Near was gone, and the door was shut. Mello could have starred at the cup longer than he had registered, giving Near the chance to slip away unnoticed. But Mello didn't know about the rules of this strange world at the time, so that was all he could fall back on. He scowled, and looked at the cup's contents once again.

"This is too kind of you, Near. What are you planning?"

_Next: _

_Renaissance: Reasonings_

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**I need to build up to the point in which the main plot starts so things will make more sense, which should be after the next chapter.**

**By the next chapter Mello should be his normal self, and more things will be explained, especially things concerning Near.**


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